


All That is Left

by Luce18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Depression, Drarry, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luce18/pseuds/Luce18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the death of Harry’s Godfather and the toll of all the events that have happened over the past year of Harry’s life, the stress and depression begin to build leading Harry down a dangerous path. Voldemort is growing stronger as Harry begins to slip farther into the darkness of his own mind. WIth so much death laying around in Harry’s mind he begins to lose his own grip on sanity and on this war that he is supposed to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fan fiction, so please be nice, but I would love as much feed back as possible. Warning this does have self harm in it, so if you do have problems with it please be aware that this could trigger you. Thank you so much for reading  
> ~~~~Lucy~~~~

Chapter One

_Dear Sirius,_

_You’re dead. I know this, I was there, I was the reason. People keep telling me that it wasn’t my fault, but I know that to be a lie. It may have not been my wand but it was my actions that caused you to be there, my actions that caused Bellatrix to curse you , and because of my actions you died. Nobody else see’s the connections like I do, all they see is the golden boy, the chosen one, the savior, they don’t see all the bodies that lay beyond my name. Mom, Dad, Cedric, and now you. Who else will have to die in my name. I never asked for any of this! I lay down at night and all I see is your face slipping behind the veil, or I’m back in the graveyard watching Cedrics cold, lifeless body or I will wake to the sounds of a distant woman's screams. I dream of all my friends and family dieing, Hermione and Ron being tortured, I dream of Remus and the Weasley Family being murdered. I don’t really know what to do now Sirius. When I look at people now all I see is their death. I think I’m going insane._

 

     I woke up shaking, my body was drenched in a cold sweat. All that I can remember from the nightmare is Voldemorts cold laugh and his long pale fingers reaching towards me . I get up from my bed, too awake now to sleep, and I strip the now wet shirt off, revealing my thin pale body, the muscles that were once firm and hard from quidditch now look diminished and sickly, from lack of food and exercise. It’s not that the Dursleys haven’t been feeding me, its just that I haven’t felt like eating. I eat enough to keep the hunger at bay, and to keep me alive. The scar on the back of my hand tingles a little bit, as if sensing where my mind is wondering. I think of the night back at Hogwarts when I was convinced that my godfather was being tortured, I remember the night to vividly in my mind, the memories of Umbridge, Centaurs, Death Eaters and of Voldemort himself. I stare at myself in the reflection of my window as I pull a gray t-shirt over my messy black hair. There are bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep, it's almost the end of July and I haven’t been able to sleep more than a few hours a night. I can lay in bed for hours just staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to grab me, and when it does, it never holds on to long, the nightmares will come soon enough.

     I Grab the journal that I have been using to write down what I’m thinking. Hermione sent it to me a few weeks ago, I haven’t told her but, it helps, it organizes my thoughts a little bit better, I can focus on one emotion at a time, one thought. Inside my mind all these feelings are jumbled together and I never can really tell how I am feeling or why.Thinking about Hermione makes me wonder what her and Ron are up to? I haven't really had any contact with any of them in the past three weeks. I have been sending my letters to the order every three days so that they know that I am fine, but are they? Are they having trouble sleeping? Do they have nightmares? I doubt it. My hand lay on top of my most recent entry. My index finger gently rubs the area of the page where Sirius’s name is printed. _I wish you were here. You would know what to do, what to say. I’m so sorry._ The last line causes me to choke a little. _Don’t think about it Harry!_ I scold myself, remember what Dumbledore told you in your first year, _It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live ._

     These are not dreams! They are nightmares! I throw the journal across the room knocking over my lamp causing a loud crashing noise that echoed throughout the whole house. I stay on my bed, body tense, staring at the broken shards of my lamp, stretching out my senses for Uncle Vernon’s snoring, for a second I hear nothing and I feel a slight tinge of fear on the nape of my neck, My uncle has been known to have many outburst of anger, and he is not against physical punishment. He has only beaten me a few times, but even though they are few, they stick out like neon lights in the back of my brain. After what seemed like an eternity,I decided that no one was awake. Slowly I creep off my bed and step over to the mess, but as I move my foot get's caught in the quilt on my bed and causes me to fall into the shards of lamp.

     My arms had broken my fall, but the injuries were immediate, My left forearm was beginning to be covered in blood and along with the palm of my right hand. I pull my arms back from the wreckage and go back to my bed, a little dotted trail of blood marks my progression. Once I was back onto my bed I grab the shirt that I was wearing earlier and wrap it around my arm. The pain was constant, not like the cruciatus curse, but it was there and it hurt like hell. I pull the cloth back from my arm and palm and begin to take in the damage. There was three small horizontal cuts on my arm, they must be pretty deep, I guessed, since the blood was still trickling out. On my palm was a long vertical cut going from the base of my middle finger to the meaty part just below my thumb. I stare at the marks, watching as they well up with blood, for some reason I find it fascinating, actually it’s kind of pretty. Once the blood wells up to the point it begins to flow down the rest of my arm I wipe it away, I do this repeatedly until the blood stops. I sit there in the slight darkness of my room, with my lamp now gone all I have is the light from the moon shining in my window. My mind feel different now, more clear, the pain that is pulsing from the injuries on my body keep pulling me from my thoughts, they keep begging for all the attention, before I know it I have fallen back to sleep.

     I wake a few hours later to the sounds of banging on my door.

     “ Wake up you worthless brat!” I hear my uncle yell, “Breakfast won’t make itself!”

     With that being said I hear his loud thundering footstep leave the front of my door and go down the stairs to the kitchen. I knew that I had about five minutes before I was to be expected to be frying eggs. I raise off the bed and feel a sudden jolt in my arm. I forgot! The lamp incident. I look down at my arms and see the three scars they are slightly elevated and red. The ache from yesterday still pesters my skin but not at the level it was. I’m slightly saddened by this, the pain was a beautiful distraction.

     I get up from my bed and grab a long sleeve shirt from my trunk, It’s only morning but I can feel the summer heat flowing into the house, I pull the shirt over my head and secure the sleeves at my wrists, this intensifies the heat, I can feel the sweat beginning to develop above my lip and brow. At least my injuries are covered, I hate to think what my uncle would do to me if he knew what I did to his lamp. Heading down stairs, I feel a little bit better as the cooler air rushes to my face when I step into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia had all the windows open, creating a cross breeze that ruffle my hair, making it more untidy than usual.

     “It’s about time you got down here.” My Aunt states as she places a cup of coffee in front of her husband. Her hair is up in a tight bun witch makes her strong bird features stand out, it’s hard to believe that this woman was related to my mother. Lily from the pictures I have seen was beautiful, long red hair and bright green eyes. A trait that I have been told so many times that I have, and my mother was strong! Petunia was just tall and bird like, she followed my uncle like a dog with a bone, it seems that all the two have in common was blood and even that wasn’t much the same. My mothers blood had magic in it, and her sister was just an ordinary muggle.

     She hands me the eggs and milk and I begin, not long after breakfast has been served, the Dursleys are done, Vernon places his news paper on the table. His bushy mustache hides most of hit upper lip and his face was set with a sour look, that says that he is not pleased with what he is reading, he looks over at me a glare that would make Medusa twitch in her seat. I keep my eyes constant at him, not breaking the contact. His fat face turns in direction of his wife.

     “ It’s just madness, People are going missing and bridges are failing, and look at the storms!, This world seems to be falling apart.” My Uncle’s face stayed a constant shade of red as he carried on with his rant. I too had heard of the strange things that are happening, but I know the truth, I don’t dare fill my Uncle in on any of it because he hates when anyone mentions magic or even implies it. My thought trail back to the Ministry of Magic and the prophecy, and Voldemort inside my head, I cringe and push my thumb into the cut on my palm, pain swells through my arm ,and I let a small gasp leave my throat, and for that moment my mind was free.

     The day droned on from that point, every now and then my mind would begin to wonder onto unpleasant subject's and I would perform the same task of pushing my thumb into the cut on my palm. I welcomed this pain now, it no longer came as a surprise. I tried to keep my self focused on the chores that my Aunt had placed before me, sooner or later though my mind would again travel back to the darkness in my brain, and I would imagine my friends and family dieing, I longed for that feeling that I had last night, that bliss of nothingness, the urge coursed through my veins pulsing at my finger tips. It was all I could think about, I needed it!

     After dinner and all the chores were done I made my way back to my room, the lamp still lay in a heap on my floor, I walk over to it and grab a piece. I carefully make my way back to my bed and rest next to the window, the coolness of the glass pane helps settle down my nerves, but it will not do want I need, what I crave. I twirl the piece of lamp through my fingers, _this isn’t right. What would Ron think? Hermione? Sirius? They are not here! They don’t know what it’s like, how it feels! This helps, it feels good! They want me to be happy? This is the pathway to my happiness, this is the key._  
      With that last thought I pulled the sleeve of my uninjured arm up and place the shard to my skin right in the crook of my elbow, I slide it slowly across my arm, feeling the stinging pain and watching the blood begin to pool. My mind begins to clear, the darkness and death leave, in this moment I am free! I do this three more times, creating four lines in equal shape and size across my arms width. I grab the same cloth from last night and place it over the injuries. Laying my head back against the window I let the coolness sweep through my body, numbing the core of my being. As long as I have this I know I can keep going.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter gets a little graphic.

     I woke up to the sound of scratching on my window. There was an owl outside with a letter attached to its foot. I let the owl in and it flew over to Hedwig and her cage. They playfully squawked at each other, and Hedwig shared her food. I open the letter and instantly recognized the writing of my headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The letter said that he wished to pick me up Friday at 11pm, he wanted to escort  me to the burrow after we made a stop. Today was Tuesday, July 30th, the day before my birthday, in the letter Dumbledore wanted me to respond in three days time to accept his offer. I hastily jumped up from my bed, grabbed my parchment and quill, and wrote a short note saying that I will be ready for his arrival. I open my window and let the little brown owl out, Hedwig flies out after him, and they were gone in a blink. By the looks of it outside it had to be around 8pm, I looked over my room, my trunk sits at the end of my bed, its filled with last years broken quills, old school books, and my robes. Strewn across my floor was old articles of the Daily Prophet , depicting how I could be the chosen one, for once they are actually right! I laugh at that thought, throughout the past few years the Daily Prophet has been depicting me as some sort of crazy adolescent. I told them that Voldemort was back and that he killed Cedric, but they wouldn't believe me, until it was too late, now more people are dead, and it’s beginning to reach out into the muggle world. I absentmindedly began to stroke my wounds causing little tendrils of pain, my mind slowly shifts to the pain in my arm releasing its focus on the night at the Ministry.

      In three days Dumbledore will be picking me up and taking me away from the Dursleys. In three days I will be with Ron and Hermione. _In three day’s everyone will be in danger. The voice in the back of my mind spoke.  Harry Potter the boy who lives, as everyone else dies!_  

     The image of Ron’s face passed through my mind. His hair strewn across his face, blood trickling from his nose and lips, his cold lifeless eyes stare into mine, his mouth begins to move but the words that come out are barely audible.

     “ Why did you do this to me Harry? You were my best mate, why did you let me die?”

     Ron’s voice rattled the walls of the room, slowly the plaster began to crumble around me revealing a dark hallway. I cautiously left Ron’s side and moved down this hallway. There was a door at the end emitting a small string of light.  The closer I got to this door, the louder the voices became.

     I crept to the door and slowly pushed it open. I was at 12 Grimmauld place, this was where I had come a year ago. The voices died as I walked in, the table was filled with all the members of the order; Molly and Arthur Weasley sat the farthest away, their faces gray and ashen, Mrs. Weasley's once bright hair, and plum body was now dull and slim, too slim. Her bones stuck to her skin, shining through as if the skin was transparent. Her loving eyes now matched her son. Mr. Weasley was no different. Next to them sat Remus and Tonks both very sickly looking, Remus always looked a little run down, but he never looked this dead. His mouth opened and slowly and painfully smiled at me, but the emotion never reached his eyes.

     “Harry, don’t blame yourself, we died on our own.” Remus looked over at Tonks and smiled. He stopped moving after that. One after another the people in the room began to die, Hermione, Fred, George, Mad eye, and Ginny. Sirius was already dead his face looking towards me like he did back when he lived. At the end of the table was Snape. He wasn’t like the rest. His black hair still as greasy as ever, and his cold calculating eyes, staring at me. He gestured to all the people at the table.

     “ My, my, my Mr. Potter, look what you have done know.” Snape spoke, his voice as cold as ice. “ All these people, how many more? The brave Harry Potter, The Savior! The boy who LIVED!” Snape rose from his chair voice gradually getting louder as he walked towards me. “ So cocky, you put everyone in harms way, this is your fault theses deaths are on you, their blood is on your hands.

     “NO!” I screamed. “I DIDN’T WANT THIS! PLEASE, BELIEVE ME! I screamed until my voice went raw, but Snapes glare never faltered. He began to laugh at me, a deep cold rumble that shook my bones.

     “Look at your hands, Potter,” Snape whispered, his face inches from mine, “Tell me what you see.” I glanced down at my hands and they were covered in blood. Bright red dripped down them creating a small puddle on the floor.

     “This will be your legacy, the death of everyone you know.” Snapes laughter grew louder and colder as he walked back to the table. When he sat all the bodies began to move, their moans became more and more audible.  The room filled with cries of “Why” and their cries just grew as I backed away.

     “I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN! PLEASE.” I was screaming at the top of my lungs but my voice wasn’t able to surpass the sounds of my dead friends.

     “Harry, you were such a good little boy, what happened?” I looked over to the voice and saw my mother, her red hair as bright as ever, and her eyes shone with small tears.

     “Mom.” My voice was just a whisper, I couldn’t believe that she was here.

     “You are not my son.” My mother cried.

     I lost my voice, she was right. I don’t deserve my last name. The blood on my hands is still dripping.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Harry's mind begins to start shifting. He is becoming so obsessed with the mortality of his friends and family, that his mind is starting to break down, and he is developing a form of insanity. I hope to develop this more gradually down the road as harry progresses in this story. Thanks for reading!!  
> ~~~Lucy~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, maybe graphic.

     I woke once more to the sounds of scratching at my window. I look outside and see four owls hovering above my ledge. I reach towards the window and see that my nails are covered in blood. The blood looks caked in and it reaches up to my knuckle. I open the window leaving stains on the lock, the owls fly in one by one, and I pull the packages from their legs. After the owls leave I place the packages on my bed and slowly pad over to the bathroom. Normally there was a lock on my door but, recently Uncle Vernon hasn’t been locking it, probably because I’ve been staying in here on my own accord more often. Once in the bathroom I push the plug in the sink and allow the hot water fill up the basin.

     I glance at my reflection in the mirror and I notice that the blood from my hands was also on my face. The red was mixing with the purple beneath my eyes. I trace the blood from my fingers to the wounds on my arms, I must have scratched them in my sleep, both sets of wounds are a pulsing red from the irritation. I can feel the heat radiating off the infection that has developed in them. I grab a wash cloth from under the sink and begin to wash the blood from my limbs. As I lather my arms, my mind drifts to the dream. Pressure fills my chest, as the tears pool around my eyes. My shoulders shake slightly as the tears fall. All I see is my mother telling me that I wasn’t her son. All I hear is Snape's voice, and the sounds of those I love dieing.     

     My strength leaves my body in one big wave and I fall to the ground. I pull my legs to my chest and bury my head into them. Tears smother my knees as incoherent sobs leave my throat. How did I let this happen? They were my friends! I let them die, its my fault. Once the tears start, they can’t stop, I slowly begin to rock with the hard linoleum floor cold against my bare feet. I feel myself begin to fall apart. The voice in my head screams at me over, and over again, Your Fault! YOUR fault! YOUR FAULT!!  I stay in this position for what feels like an eternity, but must have been only a few minutes because the feeling of warm water begins to hit my feet. I look up from my knees and see that the water in the sink is pouring over the edge and onto the floor.

     I leap to my feet and immediately yank the faucet off. The water stops pouring but the damage has already been done. The floor is covered in water, and Aunt Petunia’s rug was soaked. Uncle Vernon is going to kill me. Speaking of the devil, I hear the sound of my Uncle rising from his bed. I rush around the bathroom grabbing the bath towels and throwing them onto the floor to soak up the water. Please don’t come in here, please, if there's a God, don’t have him come in here! If there is a God he’s an ass, because seconds later Uncle Vernon’s voice grumbled outside the door.

     “ Who ever is in there need’s to open up.”

     “One moment.” I respond a tinge of  hysteria in my voice.

     “Boy! Get your filthy behind out of the bathroom this instant.” Vernon yelled, I could hear his fat fist’s turning the door knob. The door was locked, but that didn’t stop him. He began banging on the door.

     “Open this DOOR!”

     “What’s going on?” I hear my Aunt ask on the other side of the door.

     All I hear next is my Uncle make an inhuman sound and then the splintering of wood. I see his big fist protruding from the new whole created next to the handle, the next thing I know, the door is being opened and my Uncle is in the bathroom. My Aunt Petunia screams about her precious rug, but I can’t get past the appearance of  my Uncle. His normally round face is sunken in and his usually red coloring was a tinge of brownish gray. He looked dead, his skin was decaying rapidly, and in some places I swore I could see bone. His voice didn't match his appearance though. I faintly hear him hollering about how much they have done for me, and how I am such an ungrateful bastard. I look behind him at his wife and she looks no different her sharp features stand out, her cheekbones practically cutting the skin above them.

     “ What are you staring at boy?” I feel his once meaty hand reach around my throat and shove me against the wall. The impact jars my head and my Uncle’s body becomes normal again. His face a light shade of purple, and fat as ever. I grasp his hands  around my throat, I can feel my toes barely touching the ground. I gasp for air trying to breath. Vernon continues to yell, but I can no longer hear him, the lack of oxygen is causing my brain to cloud. His mouth is continueing to to run, but still nothing reaches my ear’s, I feel his spit, hit my chin and cheeks but I don’t care. I stop fighting and let my hands drop. I look past my Uncle and to the mirror behind me, I am becoming one of them. My skin begins to ashen, and pulls tight across my bones. I close my eyes and welcome this. _That’s right Harry, if you die they will live. Be the savior of your friends._

     Unconsciousness was just about to pull me under when I feel the hand around my throat drop, letting me fall on the floor.

     “Stupid kid, clean this mess up, and I don’t want to see your face at all tomorrow!” With that he left ,Petunia at his heels. I laid there on the floor slowly letting my brain absorb the oxygen that it was lacking. When I regain the strength, I pull myself onto my feet and begin to clean up the mess. It took me almost and hour to get rid of all the water and wood splinters. I grabbed the wet rug from the floor and draped it over the tub to dry. I pass by the mirror and see that my reflexion hasn’t changed, My skin was still tight and ashen, the only thing that stood out was the now purpling bruise on my neck and the red scars on my arm. I reach my room, and collapse on my bed. I feel the sharp edges of the boxes dig into my thigh, I push the them aside and drift to sleep, the sound of the lock on my door being turned is the last thing I hear before I slip into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning Graphic, may trigger some people.

_Dear Sirius,_

_I am crazy, I know it! Sane people don’t act this way. Sane people don’t see what I see, they don’t dream, what I dream. They don’t hear the voice I hear, but I found a way to deal with it! You wouldn’t approve. No one would, but it helps Sirius, it really does, it makes the pain in my mind go away. I just can’t take it any more, all is see is death... And this helps me get by, I just don’t know how long I can hold on. The voice thinks that maybe it’s time that I let go, and I think it’s right._

     For the first time in weeks I wake without any dreams. From the looks of it outside, it’s around midday. I sit up carefully, trying not to move my head or neck too much. The throbbing  increases as I move into a sitting position. Everything aches, but the pain is welcoming, it’s like an anchor, it holds my mind in place, in focus of what’s in front of me.Which at this moment is four boxes . I pick up the first box and can tell from the writing that its from my friend Hermione.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday! I hope the Dursleys are treating you well. I’m at the burrow now, my parent’s are on a trip. I’m worried about you , I know that losing Sirius was hard, and I want you to know that we are here for you. I really wish to see you soon, there is talk about bringing you here to the burrow, but no talk of when, we are waiting on Dumbledore's decision and the order.. I hope it happens soon! Ron and I miss you! Attached is your gift! See you soon._

_Love, Hermione._

      I opened the gifts, and true to Hermione’s nature there was three books; The Best Quidditch Players in History, Tips on Becoming an Auror, and A new journal. This journal was more ornate than the other one, It was bound by black leather, and had the letters _H.J.P_ on them in a fancy cursive. I pick the journal up and place it on my side table next to the other one. Next I open the letter from Ron.

_Hey Harry,_

_I hope those muggles are treating you well. Hermiones here, and we are trying to convince everyone in the order to have you come to the burrow, honestly there is no need for you to be staying there with those bloody people. Hermione’s worried about you, and honestly mate I am too. I hope you know that it wasn’t your fault. Anyways, Happy Birthday Harry, and I hope to see you soon._

_Ron._

      Ron’s gift was great, it was a set six of minnie brooms, I picked up the tiny Firebolt replica from their paper container, it immediately rose into the air at my touch and flew around the room. I smiled and moved the other five brooms including a Nimbus 2000 and let them fly around my room. The next gift was From Fred and George, it was a box filled with a bunch of different types of candy, I knew that these must have been some of their own creation as I recognized some of the wrappings from last year. Inside the box was a small note with scrawled handwriting on the front of it.

     _Happy Birthday Harry!_

_Thanks to you we have started our own store! Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and we wanted to send you the newest batch of product! Attached to this note is a key to the types of candy in here, we wouldn't want you eating a Canary Cream when you were wanting a Nosebleed Nougat. We also want you to know that we haven’t forgotten about your loan to us, and if you ever need any of our wonderful products stop by our shop in Diagon Alley._

_Fred and George Weasley_

_Owners of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes._  

     I place their gift back on the floor, and grab the last box, it’s a care package from Mrs. Weasley, as always its filled with a few minced pies, and some treacle tarts. My stomach growls at the site of food, I grab a minced pie and settle back against the window. I eat in silence, my mind occasionally drifting to dark places, but it goes away quickly when I push into my palm. I lay there repeating the cycle. I slip in and out of the past and present, my mind sits somewhere between Privet Drive and Hogwarts. I began to think about Cho, when I notice an owl outside my window. It was carrying the Daily Prophet, I untie the magazine and give the owl a couple treats before it flies away. I look down at the magazine, and stop. From the date on this magazine, its Friday, that means Dumbledore will be coming tonight! I jump up from my bed and begin to throw items into my trunk.

     Time seemed to fly by as I run around getting everything ready to leave, before I know it the sun had set. I finish up and wait on my bed. My Uncle doesn’t know that Dumbledore is coming tonight, he is going to be so mad. I laugh at the idea. His big mustache ruffled and his fat face a deep shade of purple, as Dumbledore shows up with his long beard and half-moon glasses.Vernon is no match for Dumbledore, and I doubt any of them have recovered from the last time a bunch of wizards came into his home. My heart leaps with excitement, Soon I will be at the burrow! _Soon everyone will be dead!_ The voice pipes in. The thought that has been plaguing me for weeks in my dreams resurfaces. The excitement and laughter gets replaced by panic.

     “ They are all going to die.” I say aloud.

     My dream flashes through my mind once again. When Dumbledore picks me up, it will be the end. I can’t go! _What if your not here when Dumbledore arrives._ The voice states. _You can do it Harry, Save your friends. This is what he wants, and once he’s happy no one else will die._

     “ But, Hermione and Ron, they’ll …”

     The voice cuts in, _Who cares! They’ll be upset, but at least they will be alive. They will be able to finish school, and start a life together. Don’t you want that?_

     “ You’re right.” I sigh, realization begins to fill in my chest. “I can’t leave this house.”

     I walk over to the pile of broken lamp pieces, and pick up a sharp shard, I take it back to my bed and sit. This is it, a couple tears begin to well in the corner of my eyes, memories of the past five years flow to my mind. Hermione's smile, Ron’s laugh, all of us sneaking out to Hagrids, I think of quidditch and the Gryffindor common room, Cho and Ginny. The tears break the surface and pour down my face. The same images flash before me again but this time they are twisted, as I see my friends dying, I see Hogwarts burning. Broken sobs escape my mouth. _It’s time Harry_. I grab the shard and begin. I push the sharp edge as deep as I can into my left wrist, the pain is immediate and so is the blood. I do this several times each one deeper than the last. When the blood begins to be so much that my wrist become obscured, I switch to the other one, but there is no need. My mind begins to cloud, and the world starts falling away. The tears don’t stop.

     “I’m sorry, Mom, Dad, Cedric, Sirius” My voice cracks at the sudden realization, these are my last seconds. I hope everyone will understand. _They will Harry, just let go._ I close my eyes and take a final deep breath. Unconsciousness grabs me and I welcome it, like an old friend.


	5. Chapter 5

     I hear a distant rumbling, the sound of keys jingling and then the creek of my door opening. I can't open my eyes, I can feel my body, but I don't feel present. I drift somewhere between the fog in my mind and the cotton of my sheets.

     “ OH MY GOD!” I hear a deep voice yell followed by the sound of footsteps and a woman's scream.

     “Harry!” A man’s voice says, within inches of my ear. “ My boy, what have you done?” The voice asked wrapping it’s arms around me. I try to respond but my voice won’t work. I feel a light touch to my left wrist and then a warm feeling begins to cover my whole body. The arms that wrap around me begin to lift me into the air.

     “ Be calm Harry, everything will be alright. You will feel better soon.”

     “No!” I whisper pushing against the voice. I struggle in the arms that hold me, but I’m too weak to make a difference. “ Please just let me go!” My whispers break, and I begin to feel tears fall down my face. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, How can they ruin it? I hear what I believe is my Uncle’s voice yelling about what was going to be done with me.

     “I WILL SAVE HIM!”  The voice roars, and I can feel the atmosphere change. I know this voice.

     “Dumbledore?”

     “Yes, Harry please be still.” He says, as I feel another touch but this time to my head. I push him away one final time, I try to fight, but it was no use, from the lack of blood and whatever Dumbledore has done to me, has made me useless. I lay back against Dumbledore and let the darkness take me.

     Slowly I wake, my head feels clouded and heavy. The world around me is blurry, but I remember this place, it’s the infirmary at Hogwarts. I realize that the blurriness is because my glasses are off, I reach for them on the side table to my bed but my hands won’t move. I look down at them but they look fine. Why aren't they working? Wait how did I get to Hogwarts? I rack my brain trying to remember what happened, but all that I can remember is sitting on my bed eating minced pies. Once more I try to move my hands but nothing happens. Magical restraints? Why?

     “ You won’t be able to pull out of those Harry, I did them myself.” I turn my head and see Professor Dumbledore.

     “Professor what…” I began to ask but the events that had happened come flooding back. I’m supposed to be dead. Professor Dumbledore sits silently. I’m not sure if he knows that I’m coming to this realization or just waiting for me to speak again. I decide to change my question.

     “Why?” I look at him sternly in the eyes. If any one was to understand , it would be him.

     “Why, what?” he responds. His eyes are tired behind his half-moon glasses. I can see that he has been under a lot of stress. His eyes are not twinkling like they always do, his hair seemed a little frayed and more gray than ever, but his robes were just a immaculate as usual. He was wearing a deep royal purple with silver lines all over it. Something was wrong with his had though, it looked grey and shriveled.  Is this real, or just my mind?

     “ Your hand?” I blurt out.

     “Yes, a little bit of an accident, a story for another time, now back to the original question.” He spoke steering the conversation gently back to the first topic.

     “Why did you save me?” The question comes out of my mouth before I can even register what I asked, and I notice that it also came out way more harsher, but if he took offense he did not show it.

     “ You were dying Harry, what was I supposed to do let you bleed out?”

     “Yes!” Again the words come out from my mouth too quickly.  

     _Don’t say anymore, you will ruin everything, just let him think you are fine and act normal. We will rejoin later. The voice that has been quiet for a little while speaks._

     _I’m sorry_. I tell it, _I should have tried harder, they are all going to die now. Hogwart’s is going to burn and it will be all my fault._

     “Harry? Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice breaks through my mental conversation. I am still looking at him, but my mind is now elsewhere.

     “ I’m sorry professor, Thank you for saving me.” I try to sound as genuine as possible. I wait for the voice to speak again, but it stays silent.

     “Harry, I’m worried about you, if I would have came any later you would be dead right now. I think this to be my fault thought. I expected you to have courage and strength way beyond your years, you are just a kid that is being push too far past his limits.” Dumbledore says this in a tone of disappointment. Rage fills my stomach. Strength? Courage? What does he think I was doing? I’m trying to save everyone!  

     _He doesn’t understand you Harry, not like I do. Trust in me_. 

     “ You're right, I think the stress just got to me, I mean, I heard the prophecy. I know that I have to kill Voldemort, I know that there is a war going on, and I just have no clue what to do.” I half lie, hoping Dumbledore will buy into it. He closes his eyes and nods to me, as if he's taking my explantation into consideration.

     “ Harry I believe you and I know you will do better in the future. I’m going to have you start meeting with me, on a regular basis. I believe that I know of a way to stop Voldemort, also Harry, nobody knows that you are here, and I was able to heal all you injuries, but you must promise me not to do anything so foolish again. If you need someone to talk to or help, just ask me. You also have great friends look to them for help.”  I nod to him acknowledging his statement, but not taking it in.

     _He doesn't care Harry, not about you or your friends. All he cares about is destroying Voldemort, to end his own vendetta._

     “ Well, I’m going to leave now, I already sent Molly a letter that we will be coming tomorrow. Sleep well.” And with that he left, his robes billowing behind him. He said that he believed me, but I knew then that he was lying or just didn't trust me anymore because my hand still laid locked to my sides, as if he knew that if I was free I would try again.  I look to the voice, my friend, for advice. Silence travels throughout my whole body, causing my hands to shake and my body to tense.

      _Please, don't leave me. I beg of the voice,  What should I do?_

_I will never leave you Harry. We are in this together, just sit tight and wait for my word, I will make sure that we succeed._


End file.
